Grease: A SNPP Production
by HarleenQuinn
Summary: The Springfield Nuclear Power Plant puts on a production of Grease, which of course, does not run as smoothly as would be desired.


AUTHORESS'S NOTE: Please read and review! Every word is greatly appreciated! Thank you. :)

I predicted that it was going to be just another normal weekday afternoon. I expected to wake up around 4:00 in the afternoon to the sound of Mr. Smithers' annoying, announcer-like voice telling me to get off my carcass and do some work, or else just go home. Of course, I would choose to go home, but not before grabbing one last pink-iced donut from the coffee room and chatting with Lenny or Carl about how unwarranted Mr. Smithers' disdain was for me and generally about how disdainful _he _was himself, before turning around and seeing him standing there, prissily pissed, and then fleeing the place as swiftly as I could to the cries of my friends cheering me on.

And at least part of my prediction turned out to be correct. I was in and out of work by 4:15, driving to Moe's after a long day…or at least, a long day's rest. My stomach was satiated by that last delicious donut and my confidence had been risen by my friends' laughter at what I secretly knew wasn't really all that good of an imitation of our boss. I sighed contently as I drove, turning the stereo to some random station and singing along inaccurately to some 80's tune that exited my speakers. _This is the life_, I thought to myself._ Nothing ever changes, and that's perfectly fine with me. _

As I parked on the familiar curb outside the beautifully familiar tavern that I visited every day, I couldn't help but feel thankful for what I had. My life wasn't perfect, of course, but at that moment, I realized just how happy I was with it, despite or maybe even due to its imperfections. _Maybe your life is a routine, but it is _your_ routine. Maybe your job was a dead-end, corporate hellhole, but it's _yours_. Maybe this bar was really just a low-class pub, but again, it it's _yours_. Or…actually, it's Moe's, but…whatever. _

I ambled into the tavern, predicted now to see my other friends, Moe, Barney, and some other regulars that I was in the mood to play pool with. "Hey, gang. What's happening?" I asked cheerfully as I took my seat next to Barney.

"Hey, Homer," said Barney, sounding oddly more sober than usual. "Guess what happened to me today?"

"What?" I asked as Moe served me up my usual Duff bottle.

"I was dining at this fancy restaurant today because I found a gift certificate for it on the floor. I didn't like the restaurant though. I felt like I had found this great luck and then it was wasted. So, I told the managers what I thought!"

"You did? Were you thrown out?"

"Nope. I was offered a job."

I raised my eyebrows in incredulity. "A job?" My envy immediately began to surface. "For what?"

"To be a food critic. I'm going to be in the Springfield Gazette! I tell you. That gift certificate has changed my life. I have a job now. And that means no more booze," said Barney strongly.

Confused, I questioned, "Then what are you doing here at Moe's?"

"I'll still come here to socialize. Just not to drink. The only alcohol that will touch these lips now will be wine at some fine bistro."

Before I could process this sudden change, Moe spoke abruptly and said: "Well, try to get your socializing done soon. I got a hot date tonight and will be closing this joint early."

I looked up at Moe with surprise. "You have a date tonight, Moe?"

As he swathed down a mug, he replied, "Is that really so hard to believe? That a young woman might find me attractive?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, it kind of is."

Now irate, Moe began to stutter, "Y-you know what? Everybody out. I gotta get ready, and I don't need you here tainting my good mood. Now out!"

I desolately handed Moe over some money for my drink and began to leave. That experience at Moe's was certainly not what I had expected or wanted. I soon got into my old car and drove home to see my family. _At least they won't be different. They never change, _I thought comfortingly.

I walked into my house and saw Bart and Lisa on the floor of the living room, watching Itchy and Scratchy with wide, enthralled eyes. I sighed with relief. "Hey, kids. How were your days?" I asked, sitting on the couch contently.

The episode ended just as Lisa turned around and said sadly, "Hey, Dad. My day was awful."

_Uh-oh…_ "Why? What happened?"

"I got a C+ on my history test," admitted Lisa, sounding as if she was on the verge of tears.

Internally, I screamed. Externally, I screamed as well. "A C+?! Lisa, that's not like you at all!"

She sat up and wiped her watery eyes. "I know, I know…I don't know what happened, Dad."

Instead of comforting her, I turned to Bart. "Bart, Bart…you're still the same, aren't you?"

Bart looked at me with unblinking and unreadable eyes. "Well, today I began thinking that I might have a crush on Milhouse, but besides that, yeah, I'm the same."

At this juncture, I let out a distressed cry and ran into the kitchen, panting from fear. Marge, who was sitting at the kitchen table shifting through some mail, looked up at me immediately and asked anxiously, "Homer, Homer, what's wrong?"

"Everything's changing, Marge. Everything I once knew is changing! I mean, I guess I knew that things wouldn't always stay the same, but…" I then looked at a particular envelope that Marge was holding. It was a letter from the power plant. I for some reason had the urge to open it.

"Homer? What does the letter say?" asked Marge, noticing my sudden change in mood.

I smiled. "It is announcing that the plant is going be putting a production of "Grease". Mmmm…grease."

"Are you going to try out?"

I pondered this question. "Maybe this is just what I need. A change in my own life. Something new…" I thought a bit harder. "You know, I'm going to do it. I'm going to try out for this play, and I'm going to be the best Phantom of the Opera this town has ever seen!"

"Homer, the play is 'Grease'. I don't think they're going to need a Phantom of the Opera."

Realizing my mistake, I let out a short, "D'oh!" and then proceeded to dramatically say, "Well, then I'll be the best damn...um…John Travolta this town has ever seen! You just wait and see…"


End file.
